I Feed My Monster Deep Inside
by TheWeepingRaven
Summary: The McCall pack had been all but decimated over the course of a couple of decades. For the sake of saving everyone, Stiles decides to change everything, starting with the Hale fire, but will he succeed? Or will everything fall apart and turn out worse?Only time will be able to tell. Fem!Harry Potter
1. The Last Chance

The moonlight shinned bright over the clearing that the Nemeton, now a flourishing tree, resides. Branches overhang in the clearing, creating a mass of dancing shadows as the branches swayed in the cool breezy night. From the shadows stepped out a hooded figure in a red hooded sweatshirt. The shadows clung to the figure momentarily, before gradually slipping free, like one would shake water off, as they stepped into the dim silvery light of the moon.

"You went far and wide to get me here, Mieczysław," a female figure voice spoke from the other side of the clearing. This figure was shadowed in an emerald green cloak. Her voice husky and lit with a soft accent, that rang like a melody in the quiet of the clearing. "Why would one such as yourself, have need for me?" She asked curiously. Black leather boots were quiet against the floor as she meandered slowly around the tree, until she was faced with Mieczysław Stilinski.

Mieczysław "Stiles" Stilinski lowered the hood covering his face, permitting the other to finally see his features. Amber brown eyes glowed with an inner power, making it appear as if sparks of gold danced in his eyes. His pale skin was near sickly, washed out with a tiredness that belated an age he wasn't. He stood unnaturally still and stiff, as if barely holding himself together as his beautiful eyes stared at the woman across from him.

"I have reason to believe you already know, Enchantress," Stiles replies with thin lips as he connected eyes with the shadows of the High Witch across from him. "I need your help and you're the only one who can help me," he said with a regretful undertone to his voice. If he could, he'd have never summoned her. He would have left her to have her peace in the afterlife, but he had no other choice. She was the only one with enough power, strength, and connection to those he wanted to help and save, to pull this off.

"Yes, you used Dark and Old magic to get me here," the Enchantress replied. She had been banned from appearing before him once, when he had first tried to summon her. It wasn't until she was able to give him a little nudge in the right direction, that she could appear before him, as she had now.

The Enchantress raised her pale creamy hands up to the hood covering her head. With a soft grip on the rims, she lowered it and finally allowed the younger man to see the beautiful visage that had been hidden beneath the green cloaks hood. Creamy pale skin appeared to glow in the dim moonlight. Her hair was the color of the deepest black and fell in ringlet curls around her face and to her shoulders. Brilliant emerald green eyes stared from beneath thick black eyelashes that enhanced the beautiful greens in her eyes. There was a casual elegance and beauty about the witch before Stiles, that caught numerous male and females alike, attention.

Stiles could see why Peter had fallen so hard for his wife: Harley Juniper Hale nee Potter. Not only was she beautiful, but she was powerful, strong, intelligent, compassionate, fierce, and numerous other descriptors. From the minimum that Derek and Peter have ever spoken about their family, whenever Harley Hale was brought into conversation, it was with difficulty and mainly good things to be said about her. She had died with the other Hales, having been burned alive like the rest of their family. The stories of that night, that the remaining Hales who had survived and been in the house had said, Harley had attempted to save the children with Peter. In the end, she had only succeeded in saving four members of their family, at the sake of her own life.

Only Peter, Laura, Derek, Jackson, Malia, and Cora survived the fire. From what he had learned overtime growing up, from the stories he'd been told and gossip heard through town, Jackson had been taken in by the Whittemore's to live with them. He'd been twelve-years-old at the time of the fire in the fall of 2006, and already a partial orphan. His mother had died in the fire trying to save the rest of the Hales, while his father was comatose due to the severity of his injuries. No one else had been willing to take him in. Not a child damaged from such traumatizing experiences, except for Hermione Whittemore nee Granger, wife of David Whittemore, and best friend to Harley Hale nee Potter-Black.

Malia had been taken in by the Tate's, as Evelyn Tate nee Fawley had also been a friend of Harley, since the two women both worked in the hospital. Malia had also been in the same boat as her brother, Jackson. No one had wanted to take in the partial orphan who had been through a traumatic incident that left the eleven-year-old a mess of emotions and nightmares. That wasn't to say the siblings never got to see each other, but they were forced to endure counseling for what they had been through.

The Hale's, and all extended family, had been a large family. Following the Hale House Fire, which had killed fifteen members of the Hale's, only six Hale's remained. Over a six year time-span, the rest of Hale's, be they extended or immediate family, as well as Peter's oldest children that still lived, had been hunted down by Hunters associated with Kate Argent and the Argent family in general. Stiles could understand Peter losing his mind, once it was explained to him by the remaining Hale's, that over six years, they felt the death's of each of their pack-mates. The snaps of those bonds caused excruciating pain. Peter was already dealing with the physical pain of burn scars laced with Wolfsbane and being catatonic on top of that? Stiles wasn't honestly surprised he went crazy. He can only imagine the mental anguish in watching and hearing his family burn to death. His oldest sister, her husband, her youngest children, Peter's youngest children, and his wife all burn to death, there's no words to describe it. Especially if that agony never stopped, with feeling the continuous snaps of bonds breaking as his family was killed. It's no wonder Peter was driven insane.

"You desire to change what has come to pass," Harley mused with a sad smile gracing her pink plush lips. "It comes at a great cost, Mieczysław," she warned with green eyes turning dark as she stared into amber gold. "Are you prepared for those consequences?" She asked rhetorically. "You will be the focus of the spell, to allow us to break the boundaries of past, present, and future." The once breezy wind began to strengthen as it become fierce, as if understanding what Harley was speaking of.

"To break the very fabric of time, is a daunting and dangerous thing indeed." A smile grew across her lips again, and then she chuckled in amusement at the stubborn expression on his face. He was so much like his mother, Claudia. Mieczysław had such a willingness, strength, and power swirling within him to try and save her family and those he considered his family. A warm and regretful expression graced her beautiful features as she considered the young man before her. He had no idea what the consequences for his actions were going to be. She only hoped he was strong enough to endure it.

"I'm prepared. As prepared as I can be with what I want to do. I've gained all the information I could to prepare myself," Stiles said as he nervously rubbed his hands. He held his body at an angle as he fought against the growing wind speed. The trees surrounding him rustled their leaves and howled in his ears. It was as if someone or something already knew what they were about to do.

"So be it," Harley states. It held an ironclad finalization to it. A ringing beneath her voice that deemed it final.

With abrupt movements, Stiles quickly set out the objects that were needed for the ritual. The candles, herbs, pentagram, chalice, and many other things were laid out in a particular manner. With quiet footsteps, Harley came to a stop on the other side of the ritual circle. Her green eyes scanned over the young man across from her again, taking him in. He had grown so much since she had last seen him. He'd been a mere child, compared to the young adult he was now. Raising her arms, pale hands gripped lightly tanned hands in a tight grip as they connected eyes. Without a word, the duo began to speak in unison:

"_Hear these words, hear the rhyme _

_ Heed the hope within my mind _

_ Send me back to where I'll find _

_ What I wish in place and time_"

Their voices echoed in the Nemeton clearing as they continued to chant the spell. The wind howled fiercely in the air. Their will, desire, and power erupted out around them like a hurricane connected to land. The candles flared to life at knee height as the flames flickered brightly in the night. There was a strong pressure building as the pair continued to chant. They both thought about where in time they wished Stiles to arrive back in time. He was their only hope to have a better future.

Stiles could feel the world around him beginning to spin out of control. It was a blur like one would experience at a Carnival or fair. When on one of those star ship rides that spun so quickly one couldn't help but squeeze their eyes shut until it was over. Stiles squeezed his eyes close as he fought the nausea making his own stomach twirl.

Harley's hair dances around her head and her green eyes glowed in the moonlight as she used her powers to assist Stiles in his endeavor. The louder they chanted the more that the world seemed to spin out of control. Stiles opened his eyes again as he kept chanting and could feel the world disappearing around him. What was once a clearing was now much a green blur around him. His eyesight was starting to go black as he felt a compressed weight on his body. It felt as if he was becoming too small and tight for himself.

The last thing he heard before he slipped into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness was a soft accented voice whispering around him.

"Good luck Mieczysław."


	2. A Time Traveler Arrives

**Beacon Hills, California**

**The Reserve**

An explosion of energy encompasses the clearing in which the Nemeton resides in. Stiles Stilinski awoke with a panicked and agonizing cry before collapsing in a prone position on the dirt ground near the large towering tree. Dazed and fear filled amber brown eyes darted through the thicket of branches that cloaked him in shadows. His eyes blinked rapidly as his mind tried to painfully become aware of where he was. Of what he had done. Stiles forced himself up into a slow sitting position. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest, his muscles shook while his bones ached, and his body thrummed and screamed with pain as he forced himself to remain still in his seated position.

Stiles attempted to reach out with his spark, the very thing that gave him the ability to use magic and be connected to Mother Earth, to Gaia, only to find it gone. It was once something that aided him in his ability to regenerate, or self heal, the bodily tissue and organs damaged as a result of an injury. But he couldn't feel that pulse of energy that made it known that his magic was there. There was only silence and stillness in its wake. "What?" Stiles gasped out in a hoarse voice as his panic heightened to new levels. "No, no, no, no…" he cried out as he once again raised a shaky hand in an effort to force a medium sized rock to move.

It remained motionless.

Tears filled amber eyes as grief struck him hard and suddenly. The realization that he was magiceless and injured, in a time not his own, left despair in the wake of the pain he was feeling. He had become too reliant over the years, depending strongly upon his magic to help him, that not having it anymore? It was like a vast empty space inside of him. Like an essential and significant part of himself was missing. The only time he's ever felt like this before, was after the possession of the Nogitsune.

_What is he going to do now _?

How can he possibly save everyone and change the future from what it would be, to something better? How is he possibly going to help anyone when he doesn't have his magic to help him? All his plans relied on him using his magic to help him subvert, stop, or kill (if he had to) anyone that was a danger to the betterment of Beacon Hills and his families lives.

Without his magic...he was just the helpless human surrounded by a world of supernatural monsters and freaks.

_How was he going to save them when he's powerless? _

Stiles wallowed in self-pity and frustration as he attempted to ignore the pain shooting through his body and the empty feeling that was left in the wake of his magic no longer being a part of him. Within the darkness of the Nemeton clearing, the young man wondered just what he had done to deserve a punishment like this.

**The Potter-Hale Manor **

The urgent and fierce whispering in Harley Hale nee Potter's ears, finally forced her to awaken for her light sleep. "Son of a bitch, fine, I'm fucking up," she grumbled irritably under her breath. The spirit of dead witches and warlocks always bothered her when they wanted her to do something...and it was irritating. Especially when it was in the middle of the goddamn night.

Harley's husband remained blissfully asleep, unaware of her toil and frustration. "The lucky bastard,"she grumbled to herself as she felt a jolt of electricity crawling up her spine, like a steady buzzing that wouldn't leave her be. Beneath the fierce whispers of the spirits of witches and warlocks from long past, murmuring to her of a change in the air and a newcomer about, was a steady ache beneath her heart that was screaming at her for help. The cry of pain and anguish sat heavy beneath her breasts, leaving her breathless as tears surfaced in her eyes. There was someone out there that needed her help.

And who was she to deny helping an innocent when the time called for it? It was better than trying to sleep with the unpleasantness of visions and nightmares assaulting her all night. She hated getting plagued by these damned visions, especially since it was another way for the dead witches and warlocks to bother her. That wasn't to say she didn't get visions of her own, not caused by the dead, but it still drove her up the wall. The continuous nagging of old death witches and warlocks that believed they were superior and knew best. And so they'd bitch about it until the witch or warlock they were bothering finally got fed up with it and did what they wanted.

The thirty-four-year-old witch sighed heavily as she silently slid out of bed. Her body gave a full head-to-toes shiver, that caused her toes to curl inward and outward, at the frigid wooden flooring that was beneath her feet. With nary a glance at the shades of the long dead, that all watched her with judgement in her eyes. They always judged and criticized against any witch or warlock that subverted against the norms of a witch and warlocks mandates. Gods forbidden they socialize with other species within the supernatural community.

Harley scoffed and rolled her eyes at their judgey looks and quietly glided towards the basket at the foot of her California King sized bed. The basket sat upon a dark wooden chest, that was filled with folded clothes from her and Peter, and pulled out a pair of socks that were bundled together.

Harley was dressed in a pair of black gym shorts and black tank top. She had lethargically dressed into the nearest article of clothing before collapsing into bed only a mere handful of hours ago. She was passed the point of exhaustion and settling into fatigue. With summer hanging heavily over Beacon Hills, there was nothing to say about dressing cool for the unbearable heat.

Brilliant green eyes glanced over towards where her husband slept blissfully unaware. His body was lax in sleep with his brown hair a mess. He had been dealing with an increase in case loads at the law firm he and his older brother Edmund established a decade ago. Hale & Associates Law Firm was known for winning what seemed to be unbeatable cases. Her husband and brother-in-law were charming and smooth talking attorneys at law. They could probably get Eskimos to buy ice if they really put the effort into it. So it wasn't surprising that they were getting an increase in cases.

Harley ran her hands through her hair and up into a tight ponytail. The exhaustion she and her husband felt on a daily basis probably wasn't helped by the hoard of children they had running about on a daily basis. Whether they were biological, adopted, godchildren, nieces and nephews or great nieces and nephews, the Potter-Hale Manor and the Hale Manor never had a dull moment. She loves her children and the children within the Hale Pack, but they could still drive her fucking crazy. It was something she and Talia often commiserate over. Being both Alpha's (or Luna's) in Talia's case, and working while dealing with the children was a full time job in itself.

The powerful witch quietly sneaks through the hallways of the second floor of the Manor. As she walked on light feet down the hallway, passed rows of closed bedroom doors, filled with her sleeping children, both adopted and biological, she wondered at who she might discover at the end of the feeling that was pulling her towards the Reserve. It was from habit that allowed Harley to skillfully skip the squeaky steps on the stairs as she walked down to the first floor. Her mind was lost in thoughts while she slipped on her black sketchers, that were placed to the side of the kitchen's backdoor, without tying shoelaces, as they stayed tucked into the shoes.

Harley paid little mind as she followed the familiar path out the backdoor. Walking down the pathway towards the edge of the forest, past the built in swimming pool and Jacuzzi, the garden of various flowers and fruit trees, the green houses filled with the vegetables and plants that held her herbs and spices. She didn't consider what dangers she might possibly be going towards, following the urgent feeling in her chest. The spirits continued to whisper in her ears, like gnats that buzzed in ones ears. No matter how much she pulled them away, they always came back. She can just imagine what Peter will tell her about this particular stunt.

A wry grin of amusement graced her pink plump lips at the thought. Her husband was a fierce one when he was pissed, particularly when she put herself at risk for the sake of another. Or when she listened to the spirit's whispers. Peter often had some choice words for the spirits that hounded his wife daily. If it wasn't for her protection around herself and the house, she's never get peace. She forgot tonight to put them up, from all her exhaustion..

Harley just knew that Peter was just going to be _thrilled _about her midnight stroll through the Reserve. Considering the hesitant truce the Hale Pack of Beacon Hills just recently initiated with the Imps, that resided deep in the Reserve, it was dangerous for anyone associated with the Hale Pack to be outside at night alone. Very few within Beacon Hills, none of the Mundane or No-Maj, knew that the Reserve was considered an Enchanted Forest. It was like the Forbidden Forest back in England, if one knew where to look.

Harley, Peter, Talia, and Jeremy have had their hands full, along with Peter's numerous siblings and their children. Trying to keep the younger ones from stirring up mischief or chaos within the Reserve was a job in itself. As no one wanted to have another situation like the one with the Fae. That had been a nightmare and a half. Harley shuddered at the memory. Even her brand of madness had never caused an incident like _that_.

Without realizing it, Harley's feet had led her to the clearing where the Nemeton resided. There had been talk by the Hunters of cutting it down, but Harley was well aware of the dangers that could bring the town and was adamantly against having it cut down. But that was neither here nor there, as her attention was captured upon the poor young man that was silently crying a mere dozen steps away from her.

Her heart broke for him, as her empathy went haywire as she became bombarded with this young man's emotions. Fear, despondency, anger, frustration, misery, and self-pity was just the barest layer of emotions she could feel from him. It made her heart ache for the anguish this young man was going to. Emerald green eyes, that were usually so fierce and determined to face the daily goings on, softened as she took a few steps further into the clearing.

"Are you alright?" She asked in concern.

Stiles head snapped up suddenly at the gentle British accented voice speaking from his left. Amber brown eyes connected with emerald green with shock. His eyes scanned over her with surprise. The thick curly black hair, stunning emerald green eyes, and flawless pale skin that nearly glowed in the moonlight, this could only be one person.

Stiles fought not to groan and hit his head in frustration, even as sore as he was. He had not expected to be confronted with Harley Hale nee Potter so soon.


	3. Moving Forward

Stiles stared blankly at the tired, but still rather beautiful, visage of Mrs. Harley Hale nee Potter with shock. In all of his planning, none of them considered him running into a Hale until he was ready. Having the one person who he was legitimately terrified of, as well as in awe of, standing in front of him in what appeared to be lounge clothes, was not what he had in mind.

The younger man attempted to control his breathing as the signs of an anxiety attack occurring, made his hands shake and breathing quicken. _ What the hell am I supposed to do _?! He exclaimed loudly in his mind as he curled his hands into fists at his knees. His body screamed with aching hurts that didn't seem to want to diminish. "I -" he gasped out with a tightening chest. His lungs felt like they were being squeezed in a vise and closing his airways. He had thought he had gotten over these panic attacks years ago, but it seemed that they were just delayed until he was presented with something he had trouble accepting.

Harley frowned worriedly at the young man, who looks to be a few years older than her oldest twin sons, and bent down until she was balancing on the balls of her feet. A pale slim hand gently cupped Stiles' chin and lifted it up with the same gentleness she held his chin. "Take a deep breath in and let it out slowly," she tenderly ordered.

Stiles watched as Harley Hale demonstrated what she told him to do, and followed her example. For about a minute, the only noise heard in the Nemeton clearing was their slow inhales and exhales. He could feel the panic in his chest loosening at the delicate care Harley Hale was showing him. Usually Stiles didn't like to be treated like he was weak and delicate, but it had been so long since he had experienced a motherly figure showing concern and care about him. For a brief moment, he couldn't help but soak up the attention he was experiencing.

"Thank you," Stiles murmured in embarrassment. His cheeks flushed a light pink at showing his weakness. His golden amber eyes glanced to his left in awkwardness as he attempted to brush off his moment of vulnerability. "How did you know I was here?" He asked suddenly, as a moment of insight suddenly struck him. He had just realized then, that Harley Hale shouldn't have known he was here, especially not when it was late at night and he was in the Nemeton clearing, a place that very few knew about in Beacon Hills.

Harley hummed at the younger man's question, and considered her options. Considering the dead witches and warlocks had brought her here, this young man had to have some affiliation to the supernatural world. There was no other reason the nuisances that she called the dead, would have pushed for her to come here. Bright green eyes connected with golden amber and came to a decision.

"The non-living witches and warlocks who inhabit the Other Side, nagged at me until I got fed up and did as they asked," she sighed with exasperation and a roll of her eyes.

Stiles snorted out a laugh at her vexation towards the Spirits that consisted of past Witches and Warlocks. He knew exactly what Harley meant, as they too had done the same to him before, until he finally got so fed up with their incessant complaining that he did what they asked. "Yeah," he sighed, "do they always have to be so aggravating?" He asked without consideration that he wasn't supposed to be informing Harley Hale of all people, that he was aware of the supernatural.

Harley smiled in amusement at his question. The younger man had no idea just how nettlesome those particular non-living could be. "You have no idea, they can actually be worse," she replied with a huff of a laugh. There was a moment of silence, before Harley turned her attention to the young man again. "Now," she began carefully. Her brilliant green eyes watched as every muscle in Stiles body stiffened at the tone of her voice. She could see it pained him, but he didn't seem to notice as he watched her warily. As if she was a poisonous viper about to strike. "I know you're a time traveler, the Spirits blatantly told me that on my way here." Harley informed Stiles, who seemed to grow more tense at her words. "What I can get from those busybodies, is that you need my help for _ something _," she stressed with a frown, "though they wouldn't tell me what that something is. Just that you had to tell me."

Stiles frowned at Harley's words. Could he truly depend on Harley Hale to help him save the Hale pack from certain annihilation? She was the most powerful witch of this millennium. The stories he had heard about her, the supernatural history books that spoke of her exploits, had left him in admiration and intimidated. But the things he could learn from her, it made him feel a stirring of interest for the first time in years.

He gnawed on his bottom lip at his quandary. There was one side of him that did want her help. She was known as the Enchantress, the Green Witch of the Americas, and the High Priestess of Death and Magic to various circles within the supernatural community. Depending on who you talked to of course. She was not someone that he should just disregard when she was willingly offering him help. And yet, he was still hesitating accepting her assistance, and he didn't know why.

Harley could see that the younger man was struggling. That there was a conflict going on within him. With a groan, she sat on the dirt that covered most of the Nemeton clearing. Her feet were achy and tender from her long shift at the hospital, and crouching as she had been in front of the younger man hadn't helped her any. "I'm Harley Hale by the way," she introduced herself as she leaned back on her arms and looked up at the night sky. From here in the Nemeton clearing, far away from civilization, she could clearly see the brilliance of the night sky. It left her in awe every time to see such wonder and marvelous beauty.

Stiles startled at Harley's sudden introduction. Golden amber eyes turned to look at the strongest witch to date, enjoying the beauty that was the night sky. "I'm Stiles," he finally said with a pounding heart at finally coming to his decision. He had wanted to do this on his own, but with his powers seemingly out of his reach and being human with no real self-defense training, he was out of options.

"I had thought you looked familiar Mieczysław." His name rolls off her tongue smoothly as Harley looks away from the night sky and pushes herself up into a sitting position once again. Her green eyes are sharp and thoughtful as she looks at him. "You must have quite a tale to tell me about," she said with a tilt of her head, causing her dark hair to tumble over her shoulders. "But first we should get you healed up." The older woman stood to her feet and brushed the dirt off her hands and pants. She reached a hand out for Stiles to take, which he did after a moment's hesitation.

"Healing would be good," he agreed with a wince as his muscles tugged unpleasantly at his movements, sending a blinding flash of pain through him. "Rest would actually be really nice." Stiles added with a slow nod of his head.

Silently, the pair began to make their way back into the forest and away from the Nemeton clearing. It was a slow and steady pace the two made, neither was in a real hurry to get back to civilization yet. Stiles tried not to trip as he followed Harley down the dirt path, but couldn't stop himself when his foot caught on stray roots or branches that had fallen from trees. He muttered curses under his breath in frustration, and could hear the stifled chuckles that Harley was containing.

"Not very graceful on your feet are you?" She asked rhetorically over her shoulder.

Stiles grumbled as he tripped yet again, fighting the yelp that wanted to escape when he did. "I used to be, when I still had my magic at my disposal," he replied with a sigh. "I tend to use it as another sense for my surroundings and for agility."

Harley hummed in response to his reply. "Yes, I've been known to do that a time or two."

The younger man looked over at her with curiosity. He had read the stories about Harley Hale nee Potter, and was curious if any of what he had read about her was actually true. "I read about you," he began as he turned his attention back to trail he was walking. Even with the nearly full moonlight beaming down on them, he still struggled to see through the canopy of trees and their branches that hung over them like looming giants. "The stories that were written about you, they all had conflicting opinions about the things you've done." Stiles remarked as he continued to follow her in the direction they were heading.

Harley merely hummed at his remarks. Brilliant green eyes glanced over at him, her head tilted to the side as her raven black hair fell over shoulder in a tumble of silky black curls and partially obscuring her facial features. "So they do. Opinions on my person are often fickle. They either love me or love to hate me," she finally said as she turned her focus back onto the path. "Nothing bothers or terrifies them more, than when they're faced with someone who is an impossibility. They simply can't mentally comprehend it."

Stiles looked at Harley as he comprehended what she was telling him. He had always had a feeling that she was something _ more _ than just a witch, but had never truly been able to question anyone who had known her, about his suspension. That curiosity Stiles always had about anything and everything that caught his attention and interests, made him desperately want answers to all the questions that were bubbling beneath the surface. He wanted to be able to pick at Harley's brain, but instead of asking these questions, he asked something else that caught his attention.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

Harley glanced over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at his question. "To my home of course," she replied in a tone that clearly said she thought it was obvious where they were heading, and had assumed he would know where they were going as well.

Stiles looked blankly at Harley. He was too emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted to even attempt to get his brain working at a reasonable speed. He's had a hard night and all he wanted was to sleep for the next week. The younger man goes to say something, though he isn't sure what he would say when he's stopped by Harley Hale nee Potter holding out her arm in a protective gesture. He freezes as the gesture halts any further movement. Amber gold colored eyes look at the unnaturally still form in from of him.

He can't see anything, but he can just imagine those beautiful alert green eyes scanning the dark surrounding forest. Stiles can imagine Harley reaching out with her magic, searching for whatever had been caught on her radar. "What is it?" He asked in a whispery soft voice. He could barely have anything over the pounding of his suddenly racing heart. Amber gold eyes looked around the hiking trail, but could see nothing but the dark dancing shadows of the trees and the stark blackness that seemed to consume the Preserve.

"We're being watched," she murmured back.

Stiles' hair stood on end at her whispered words. The chill of the unsettling notion that there was something in the darkness of the trees, watching and waiting for a moment to strike, left his heart racing even faster in a quick tempo. His amber gold eyes rapidly scanned from left to right, in an attempt to see what Harley had sensed. He really hated the feeling of helplessness that settled over him at the notion that he was essentially worthless without his magic. At the moment, he was just a human with his wit and smarts to keep him going.

"Do you know who's watching us?" He finally asked, after his futile attempt to see in the darkness that surrounded them like a thick fog.

"No, what I can sense is obscured. It is as if a thick fog of darkness, deceit, rage, and hate cloud my sight and sense." Harley responded with a frown and furrowed eyebrows as she tried to see through the nebula of negative emotions.

Stiles bit back the remark of Harley being a Jedi Master, with the way she was speaking. From the twitch of her lips and a quick glance over her shoulder at him, she had clearly heard his thoughts loud and clear. "We need to keep moving," she suddenly states. Without another moment wasted, she grabbed his hand and gently pulled him along beside her. Her eyes constantly rove the surrounding hiker path, as if suspecting whatever was lying in wait to attack.

The unsettling feeling didn't leave Stiles as the pair walked at a steady pace for nearly twenty minutes. The whole time Harley remained watchful and wary, continuously on guard for this danger to do more than just watch. Stiles' jaw dropped as they stepped through the gate that surrounded the Potter-Hale Manor. The place was huge, and looked to be as big as the Hale Manor. It was three stories tall with what looked like an attic. The property surrounding it was massive, with built in pool and Jacuzzi, two green houses, a garden, a back porch that looked to contain a built in bar and grill with a long outdoor dining table with matching chairs, and diverging pathways, where one seemed to lead to the right of property with a handful of what looked to be tree houses that connected by wooden bridges. The outdoor lights were on, allowing for easy visibility.

"It seems Peter woke up." Harley murmured with a grimace. "He certainly won't be happy," she added under her breath as she walked down the pathway that led towards the backdoor. From the way she was acting, it was like she was an unruly teenager that had snuck out after her curfew and was caught trying to sneak in. It made Stiles interested to see just how different Peter was from the man he knew. Stiles followed after Harley, having no other choice really, as she hadn't released his hand yet. He honestly found the hold comforting in a motherly and protective sort of way. It was as if she was reassuring herself that _ he _was safe and hadn't been harmed, other than his time travelling hop harm.

As soon as the back door swung inwards, the shrill sound of a crying baby reached their ears. Harley immediately released his hand as she took off at a steady trek through the expansive kitchen and pass a doorway that led to the room on the other side. The kitchen held a rectangular window of sorts, with an island with bar stools. The whole first floor looked like one open space, but was easily differentiated between, as Stiles followed after Harley, passing the doorway and into the living room.

Stiles paused in surprise, as he watched Harley gently take the crying baby into her arms. Peter Hale easily let the infant into the arms of his wife. His dark brown hair was messy and standing on end in certain areas. His bright blue eyes were tired and dark circles displayed the lack of sleep the werewolf must have been experiencing. He was shirtless, showing off the tone muscles and six pack he had. He wore only a pair of pajama pants in black. Why did all supernatural creatures have to be ridiculously beautiful?

"You were missing from bed." Peter was saying to Harley, his blue eyes narrowed with suspicion as he watched her soothe their youngest child. "Again," he added with a sigh. "What made you wander the forest at this time of night?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harley's green eyes flicked to where Stiles stood in the area that marked the front entryway, right before one stepped into the living room. "A visitor from a distant time," she replied dryly. Her lips curled into an amused smirk as she looked back at her husband. "The Witches and Warlocks from the Other Side felt it was imperative that I go and find him." A sigh released, exhibiting all the exhaustion she was feeling in that one sound. "I think we need to call for a family meeting." Harley stated as she swayed back and forth with her infant daughter.

"Oh joy." Peter grumbled with a roll of his eyes. As much as he loved his family, he had a huge family that made a mad house seem quaint. The very thought of having to call them all for a meeting, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I'll show you to a guest room, Stiles." Harley said as she walked out of the living room and towards one of the staircases that led to the second floor. Peter followed behind his wife, his sharp and intelligent blue eyes watched their guest with wariness. While Peter trusted his wife's judgement on many things, his wife had a soft heart for strays and the wounded. And this _ Stiles _ was clearly both a stray and wounded, if he ever saw one.

Peter glanced between his wife and Stiles, and finally spoke again when they reached the landing for the second floor. "Does this Stiles have a last name?" He asked in a tone that seemed like he wasn't entirely interested in the answer. When in fact, he was very curious about who this guest in his home was.

"I'll tell you more in the bedroom." Harley decided, before Stiles could say anything, though from the way he was swaying on his feet, he likely hadn't even heard the question that Peter had asked. "This is the guest room," she opened the plain white door into a warmly decorated room in light blues and browns. Stiles stumbled to the bed and collapsed onto it in a heap. "Here's the potions you can take, should the pain become too much," she added with a twitch of her fingers, three vials of varying colored potions appeared on the nightstand, along with a cold glass of water.

The couple left the room with a click of the door shutting and a force shield in an array of colors rising over it. Peter raised an eyebrow at the force shield and his wife. "It's more for his protection than anything." Harley muttered as the couple walked further down the hallway, before stopping at the nursery. Harley laid her daughter in her crib, brushing a soft hand through soft locks of brown hair, before stepping back out and continuing their trek down the hall into their bedroom.

The couple cuddled together on the bed, both of their bodies sinking the softness with relief. It was something they did every night. They would lay in bed, holding each other as they decompressed and relaxed into their comfortable bed. It was quiet for a while, before Harley spoke.

"His name is Stiles Stilinski," she murmured quietly into the darkness. "He came from a future that he wants to change for the better." Harley paused as she shakily released the breath she had been holding. Her head rested on Peter's chest while his arms wrapped around her waist. "If just the glimpses I saw in his mind is just a small amount of what happened...I don't blame him for wanting to change it Peter."

Peter gave a gentle squeeze of his wife's waist with his arms and leaned down to press a loving kiss to her head. He could hear the pain and sorrow in her words. If what she had seen, just a small glimpse of what the young man in their guest room had gone through, was enough to shaken her, then he wasn't sure he wanted the same thing to happen again in their future.

"We'll help him change it then." Peter decided, his resolve strengthened at the tension that released from Harley at his agreement, even before he learned what had happened. If there was anything he could do to lessen how upset she was feeling, he would do it, if only to make her happy. "I'll call Talia tomorrow and have her call for a Family Gathering."

Harley lifted her head and smiled at her husband. How she loved this man. He was her best friend, partner, soulmate, and the father of her children. She couldn't imagine a life without him in it. She didn't want to think of how she would react to losing him. Be it from hunters, a rival Pack, or from some sort of human or supernatural creature. She didn't think she'd survive it with her sanity in tack.

"In a few days then, we'll find out what we need to do from Stiles." Harley agreed with a sweet kiss shared between the couple. They would do whatever was needed to ensure that the tragedy that Stiles must have gone through, never happens, by any means necessary.


End file.
